|
|
 |
|
|
User Rating: |
|
8.7
/10
(9
votes)
|
|
|
|
|
|
From all of this I am the only one who leaves.
From this bench I go away, from my pants,
from my great situation, from my actions,
from my number split side to side,
from all of this I am the only one who leaves.
From the Champs Elysées or as the strange
alley of the Moon makes a turn,
my death goes away, my cradle leaves,
and, surrounded by people, alone, cut loose,
my human resemblance turns around
and dispatches its shadows one by one.
And I move away from everything, since everything
remains to create my alibi:
my shoe, its eyelet, as well as its mud
and even the bend in the elbow
of my own buttoned shirt.
Cesar Vallejo
|
|
Read poems about / on: moon, paris, people, alone, october, death
|
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
|
People who read
Cesar Vallejo
|
 |
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
